The Profound Bond
by Thenamesapun
Summary: Dean Winchester FBI agent and a damn good one at that. For some reason he keeps being assigned cases where people claim they were possessed by demons which wouldn't be so bad if his new trainee partner Castiel didn't agree with them (and wasn't completely incompetent). Maybe Dean's going crazy, maybe it's the world around him, or maybe it's something much more supernatural. Destiel


**The Profound Bond**  
**Chapter 1: A little Vacant**

**Some of you guys might know that I tend to write Frostiron. I decided to take a break from it since I had no inspiration and all my exams are like next week so I wanted something to help me keep my stress low and my mind off it. The video that this is based off can be found here watch?v=LhC0ojzJPdI&list=PLEPJAPKFj1uhkdvmLb8qB3LxBaSOkJf6S The only thing I've changed so far is Dean does not know Cas is an Angel. I hope you guys enjoy it, even though it's something different**

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Dean didn't have attachments beyond family and that was perfectly fine with him - despite what Sam said. It's not that he had commitment issues as such, it's just that there was no chance or time for that sort of relationship. Being a federal agent required constant moving and self-sacrificing that would drive any girlfriend crazy. He was a lone wolf, at home and work, and all the trainees sent his way learnt that fast enough. He'd dealt with a lot of terrible idiots in his time and decided having survived Ed Zeddmore and Harry Spangler he could handle anyone they threw at him. That was until he met Castiel.

Dean had woken up that day groggy and disoriented. Drinking on the job were never appreciated but Bobby sat in a high enough position in the bureau to pull his arse out the fire. From a quick examination he placed his motel room and the bizarre case he'd been assigned. He'd dealt with a crap-ton of religious nuts but some were so feverish that he almost wanted to believe their insistence it was demons. This is one of those cases and surely enough the suspect who they'd been interrogating had described a similar scene as several others, "A smell like rotten eggs ('sulphur' he'd chipped in helpfully. He did not suffer through all those chemistry lessons for nothing) and huge black smoke."

After the women was sent for psychiatric evaluation and Sammy was called in to help her plead insanity it was Deans job to collect the last witnesses and their statements before the court took over. He hoped to god he would not have to sit through another damnable court hearing because they were so boring. Why his brother had honestly wanted a job in that business he may never understand.

So there he was, crossing from the motel to the bar, then hanging around with a pint until he could muster to nerve to call at the last persons house. It was some ungodly hour he'd got the instruction to come down and crossing three stares for a generic lunatic was not his idea of a fun friday night. Dean perched almost uncomfortably, eyes glancing from the people flitting around in his peripheral vision to the mounted television. It took several minuets before he caught on that someone was staring, diagonally across on his 8 o'clock. Dean turned to observe a young-ish fellow, probably the same age as himself, with brown hair and dark eyes that were trained on him.

"Can I, uh, help you?" He asked and the man recoiled slightly.

"No well I was just," The stranger was searching for an answer that clearly didn't exist before shaking his head and changing topic, "You an agent?"

"What gave it away?" Dean asked, a hint of sarcasm. FBI were distinctive, no matter how incognito their outfits. Maybe it was the slight twitch of the hand at any foreign noise or the constant shift in attention.

The man gave a slight huff, "THe suit mainly. Not enough formal wear around anymore. It uh looks good. On you, I mean."

Dean furrowed his brow slightly in confusion, "Thanks I guess. Hey waitress get twitchy here a drink on me."

"Em thank you. The name's Aaron Bass. And you?"

"Dean. Dean winchester," He leant the small distance from his stall to the closest table and gripped the hand extended, "FBI."

"You investigating the murders here?"

"That I am. You wouldn't happen to know anything about them, would you?"

"Nothing first hand no, sorry," Aaron shrugged before shuffling closer. Dean considered copying but decided against it, instead waiting to see what he would do. The man had a slight flush to his cheeks and it took a second before he talked again, "I know you probably aren't hanging around for long but if you've got a night free you want to get dinner? With me, I mean?"

"I uh..." Dean froze because wow was that awkward, "I'm flattered but uh"

"It's just cause of the bar and the drink and the not freaking out about my staring and it seemed like we had a moment then and..."

"it's uh there's no time for that kinda stuff and I've gotta go get a statement and..." He trailed off, standing and paying awkwardly.

"All work, no play. I get it." There was disappointment on the well trained voice, but acceptance too, "Well, alright. Have a good day."

"You you have a yeah okay..." Dean had kept his socially inept stuttering going until he reached the door before he marched off, back straighter than normal, and tried his hardest not to look back.

It was on his was to the house that he got the text, 'Hold up near witnesses home, new guy coming your way. Ellen's tested him out, says he's pretty awful. Don't think he'll last the week. - Bobby'

"Awesome," Dean muttered, shoving the mobile in his pocket before parking where directed. Sometimes, newcomers would surprise him with their intuition. Most the time they were as disappointing as they sounded. Surely enough another car pulled over soon and two figures stepped out, a supervisor he couldn't be bothered to learn the name of and a young attractive man with a long yellow trenchcoat and a scew-if tie. No points for neatness, but it looked like he tried at least so maybe a B for effort.

"New guy got a name?" Dean asked, looking pointedly at his 'partner'. The man didn't respond for several seconds, like the question wasn't obviously directed at him, before nodding.

"Of course I have a name," He stated, voice gruff. The supervisor was wearing a slightly pained expression.

"And it is...?"

"Castiel."

"Winchester, this is your new trainee, Mr. Novak," She informed politely before stepping in close and muttering, "Go easy on him, he's a little vacant."

Dean nodded in reluctant agreement before she departed, leaving the two alone. It was an uncomfortable silence, as that with most strangers were.

"Okay so there isn't too much to learn from her so let me do the talking, alright? You just stand there and look pretty. Hey, chuckleface," He clicked his fingers to get the man's attention, starting to walk in the direction of the house. Cas followed in tow, "You even listening?"

"I was considering the murderers motives."

"What is there to consider? She was a grade A psychopath, and a satanic one at that."

"I wouldn't be so sure," was the only reply there was time for before Dean had rapt politely on the front door and a middle aged man had peered through, gesturing them in with a deep-set grimace.

They took the sofa they were offered and it was down to business straight away.

"So as you are aware we arrested your sister on the suspicion of murder and a trial is to be held in exactly one week. I would just like to ask some follow up questions, so we can get all perspectives. Your sister claimed it was a demon who made her do it. Was she religous previously?"

The brother licked his lips and shook his head slowly, "Not in any of my memories. Then again she was hardly murderous when we were kids so... What do I know?"  
Dean nodded and smiled sympathetically. Then there was the sound of a voice he dreaded hearing.

"I believe that your sister was possessed," Cas chipped in, his voice monotone.

"What?" The man before them had his jaw hanging slightly slack

"He means like with hatred," Dean covered up, earning him a sharp look from his partner.

"No I-"

"We all have those kind of people we hate to the point we just want to strangle them, maybe she just caved in to the temptation," He explained this time glaring at Cas. He left the '_and I just might too in a second_' silent before they continued on the investigation.

As suspected, the brother had no more information to provide. Of all the outcomes the entire case could have concluded on it sure managed to pick the least eventful. It was only when he nestled in the Chevy Impala, feeling the weight of an occupied passenger seat, he started talking, "What the hell was that about possession?"

Cas hesitated, licking his lips slightly, "I wanted to see his reaction."

"Why? It's not like all that voodoo crap is real."

"You are not a devout man?" Castiel pinned him with his freakishly intense stare. Dean could have held eye contact for ages were it not for the fact he was driving.  
He huffed in response, "Putting it lightly. I believe what I can see. I guess demons I'd be more likely to accept than angels or god."

"Oh? And why's that?" The question was the most interested his partner had sounded and who was Dean to deny a simple answer.

"Bad things happen to good people and good things happen to bad people. If there's no god and no angels to look out for them then that would make sense," He paused to turn into a diner car park, "But if there was a god then why doesn't he stop all this crap? I've seen a lot of blood in my life time and a lot of innocent people suffer."

The wheels had long since stopped turning but neither of them made a move to get out, both sitting in contemplative silence.  
"And what about yourself? You believe in God?" Dean asked, tapping his fingers on the wheel. Castiel looked at him gravely with a stare impossible to evert from.  
"Yes, I do. I also think you're wrong, Dean. Good things do happen."

"Sure, just not in my experience," Dean replied. He wanted to escape the severity of the conversation and decided opening the door and getting out was a good indication of this.

He had his body halfway out his car before he heard his partner talking, "you don't believe you deserve to be saved."

Yup, this is definitely a conversation he wanted to get away from, "So, you like burgers?"


End file.
